Meghan Vaels Locket
by Dixie990
Summary: After years of torment, one final gift from Hawke is enough to help the exiled prince finally make up his mind. - Rated M for adult content in chapter 2.
1. Chapter 1

**Meghan Vael's Locket.**

**So… was I the only one that was curious about this little trinket? Yes? Oh well. I found it strangely disappointing that there seemed to be no story to this item like there was for Sebastian's bow in the DLC and apparently no reaction from Sebastian when Hawke goes round wearing an heirloom of his dead family. Since I seem to have developed a taste for the Sebastian X F Hawke pairing (or rather I've developed a taste for corrupting handsome chantry boys)… this is what I came up with inspired of course by that bloody locket! **

**First chapter should be fine for most audiences… but chapter 2 is for mature (18+) audiences only! As always, apologies for any and all spelling / grammar mistakes. I come up with stories… writing them down is the hard part!**

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She was infuriating… maker damned sin personified. She was a self-centred, ruthless, merciless… drunken… whore!

Sebastian shook his head a little to clear the venomous thoughts from his mind. He needed to return to his prayers… he needed Andraste to cleanse him of this vile hate!

But was it hate? Really? A wicked voice whispered in the back of his mind. Or was it something… else?

He'd travelled with Hawke long enough now to know she was ruthless yes, but thankfully never cruel. Her dark ways were never without reason and often it seemed she played a hand of the maker as she carved her way through hordes of slavers, criminals… even blood mages weren't safe from her wrath. She stood by the Templars and their sacred duty even though her family was afflicted with mages.

As for her drunken whoring… well… she always seemed so sad… so lost in her own shadows; when she was drunk and flirting around with Fenris or… maker forbid… Isabella, light seemed to creep back into her face. She'd even taken to turning her flirtations on him, making lewd remarks… in the chantry no less! Tempting him with a mischievous flash of her golden eyes or tossing back her beautiful, wild black hair. Yet, no matter how much she made him blush, he couldn't bring himself to scold her or even to outright refuse her, not when she seemed to take so much pleasure in it. She smiled- just for a split second- when she teased him, knowing full well she could never have him… that he could never have her. And that – that right there! That's what it was that bothered him so much, why she tormented him to the edge of sanity. He didn't hate her- not one bit- but maker, did she have to be so alike to him? To his days before the chantry?

He smiled his bowed head as he wondered for a moment what her reaction might be if he recommended she join him in the chantry, to give up the worldly riches she'd fought so hard for in the hope of becoming a better person. No… he dared not even suggest it… even in jest. She supported the Templars yes, but Sebastian felt this had less to do with faith in the maker and more to do with a dislike or distrust of magic. She'd never attended the chant as far as he was aware and aside from him, she seemed to avoid priests in general. Something to do with her upbringing perhaps? Always having to run from the chantry because of her sister and her father?

He shook his head again and got up from his knees. It seemed solace in prayer was going to be harder to find today. Hawke had been on his mind, distracting him, with increasing frequency lately.

He had been wary of her first, especially considering how well she'd taken care of the flint company and then of Lady Harimann and her demons. Then he had been wary of her for a whole host of other reasons, from those fierce golden eyes to the sway of her smooth hips.

He leaned forwards and rested his elbows on the stone banister, overlooking the main hall of the chantry and the door in. 'Chastity is not for princes' she'd said… he heaved a sigh. He'd asked so many times for a sign from the maker, something to show him the road he should take. What if he was ignoring the most blatant sign the maker could give? Had he not been provided with every tool he could possibly need through his alliance with Hawke? Wasn't that in itself a good enough answer? What did he expect? That Andraste herself would appear to him and give him the crown or a priests robe?

On the other hand what if he was kidding himself? What if he was seeing her as a sign when in truth she was sent to test him? Temptation embodying everything he ever wanted in a woman… in a companion… a consort… just put in front of him to test his resolve? Maker! Why must everything be so frustrating when it came down to that woman?

"Who is Meghan Vael?" The sound of her voice behind him made him jump so much he was sure he would topple over the banister. When had she come in? He'd been watching the door… she must have arrived earlier. Had she been here all this time? He was usually more attuned to her presence – to everyone's presence. It had been part of his training as a boy – did she distract him that much?

"Hawke!" He exclaimed, trying to right himself and appear casual. "I didn't see you come in." He indicated to the door he'd been starring at moments before.

She shrugged. "I came to ask about funeral arrangements."

Sebastian felt his heart sink. He felt like a fool. Of course she would be… her mother had just been killed. "Of course… I'm so sorry Hawke I…"

She cut over him. "Who's Meghan Vael?"

He was a little surprised by the question; it's not one he'd have expected from her. "She was my niece." He told her. "My eldest brother's daughter. She was just a child but… it seems the Harimanns had her killed too." He glanced away. He had adored Meghan; she was a sweet, well-tempered child. They had shared eye and hair colour. Just before his parents sent him to the chantry Sebastian had taken to teaching her a little archery.

Hawke was nodding a little, her eyes on the floor as she fiddled with something in the palm of her leather clad hands. "I um…" She faltered a moment. It was so unlike her that Sebastian felt a rush of concern. He frowned and stepped forwards.

"Are you alright Hawke?" he asked her. "Do you feel unwell?"

She looked up then, her golden eyes piercing him with their usual ferocity. "No. I'm fine." She glanced away then back at Sebastian. "I was going through some old things I picked up before the whole deep roads thing... looking for something mother gave me… I found this and I figured..." She paused, holding out her closed hand to him. "Well I figured you should probably have it."

Tentatively Sebastian raised his own hand to accept whatever it was she was handing him. The feel of metal, warmed by someone having clutched it for a long time, fell into his palm. He glanced down as she drew back and saw the elegant silver locket, the crest of Starkhaven on the front and the name 'Meghan Vael' engraved on the back. His skin tingled with the enchantments that had been placed on the trinket years ago. Sebastian frowned, his heart weighing down as he recognised the locket. "Where did you find this?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Same place I found your bow actually… one of the flint mercenaries had it. I wore it for a bit…" She shrugged again. "For the enchantments… but I replaced it just before I went into the deep roads. I've had it in a trunk ever since." She caught his gaze with her own again. "When I found it again I thought you'd want it back."

"Hawke I…" Sebastian withdrew his hand and picked up the locket, holding it up in the candle light to admire it. It seemed Hawke had taken care of it. Despite admitting to wearing it in battle, the locket was untarnished and carefully polished. "Thank you." It was all he could think to say, though it was insufficient. "This…" He gestured to the trinket. "This is the last gift I gave to Meghan… before I became a chantry brother. It's nice in a way, to have it back now." He smiled at her. "Really Hawke… thank you."

She shrugged and looked away again, her stance a little nervous. Sebastian put that down to her being in the chantry. She'd never liked the place and always spent as little time as possible lingering where the maker might see her. "Yeah well, just promise me you won't give it away or something equally stupid… I know you have a vow of poverty and everything…"

He raised his hand with a smile. "Don't worry Hawke. I won't part with it."

She wrapped her arms around herself defensively. "There's something else."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows curiously. "Oh?" She looked, if possible, even more uneasy, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and looking anywhere but at him. Seeing her in such distress… was torment to him. He stepped up, unable to bare it and rested a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a purely friendly manner. "Hawke, are you sure you're ok?"

Her eyes snapped to his, full of fury. "My mother has been murdered by a mad blood mage and you're asking me if I'm 'ok'!?" As soon as the words left her mouth Sebastian saw regret pool in her eyes for just a moment before she closed them. When she reopened them, her face was cool and impassive. "I just wanted to ask if you would see my mother got a chantry burial… she was faithful, even if our… situation… made attending impossible. I don't know much about it but…" Sebastian's heart leapt in his chest. That she would trust him was an honour. Hawke did not trust easily. He knew for a fact she did not even trust many of her own companions, that he might be considered one of the few she did…

"It would be my honour." He inclined his head to her respectfully.

She nodded, then abruptly turned on her heel to leave. Sebastian reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her for just a moment. "Hawke… if there is anything else I can do…"

She smiled… she actually smiled. Just a small flash but it was there. "Sebastian… the comfort I would ask of you is one you've promised away to a… goddess..." She gestured up at the golden statue of Andraste, then shook her head solemnly. "How can I hope to compete with that… no matter how much I might lo… want you?" She looked away again, embarrassed by her near words. "I won't keep you any longer." She wrenched her hand from his grip and fled, almost running from the hall leaving Sebastian to stare after her, blue eyes wide in shock. Hawke loved him? He clenched his hand around the silver locket. Maker… he was such a fool.


	2. Chapter 2

**HAWKE**

Hawke slipped through the door of her estate, kicking off her heavy leather boots as she went.

"Ah! You've returned home!" Bodahn greeted her. She waved a hand in his direction and he fell silent as she paused to pat Dog's head… all without a word. She felt the dwarf's eyes on her as she moved to the writing desk and checked over messages that had arrived while she was out; then, without answering any of them she made for the stairs. "Ah… Will you be wanting any supper tonight Mistress?" The dwarf asked cautiously, still trying to gauge her unpredictable mood.

"No Bodahn… not tonight."

"As you wish Serah…" he didn't get a chance to finish, the slam of her door cut him off.

Hawke stood for a moment, just staring into her room. Maker she was such an idiot! Blurting out her feelings like that to Sebastian… a man she knew in her heart she could never have! He'd made his choice and no matter how much she tried to persuade him, he seemed firm in that decision.

Part of her admired his dedication; another, stronger part of her wished he was that dedicated to her. Selfish of her really. But Hawke had never really claimed anything for herself. Everything she'd ever done was for someone else. The one thing… the one person she wanted for her own… was already sworn to another cause, no matter how stupid or pointless she might think that cause was. He'd taken a 'bride'… even if she was a phantom.

Hawke had never really been in love before. She'd had flings of course… passing fancies of men and women 'that would do for now'. Her father had always told her she 'would know love when she felt it'.

Well she bloody knew it now alright. He consumed her without ever having to touch her. She'd tried to drink it away, tried to flirt with someone else she found attractive, she'd even taken her frustrations out on her enemies but nothing would save her from his smile. She'd tried to get his attention but in the end she realised… all she really wanted was to see him happy. Oh Maker how cliché! Still, it was true. If Sebastian found peace in the chantry, then she wouldn't be the one to take him away from that, no matter how much she… loved… him.

She pushed herself away from the door and went to her small desk in the corner, throwing off the outer layers of her leather armour as she went and leaving herself clad only in the red under shirt beneath. She snatched up a bottle of wine – a gift from Fenris – and emptied what was left into a nearby glass. She took a sip of the warm, rich liquid and settled herself on the edge of her bed to stare down at her now bare feet.

It was yesterday, as Fenris sat beside her trying to offer some sort of comfort when both of them knew she would rather have someone else there, that she remembered the locket. When Fenris had left, she'd spent hours rummaging through her old chests and clothes searching for it. Thoughts of Sebastian had plagued her since the moment she laid eyes upon him and she'd spent hours admiring the locket, thinking of him, long before she came to call him a friend. She'd wondered then who Meghan Vael might have been, his mother? His sister? To know now that she'd been a child… it sent shivers to her bones. If anyone could understand what she was feeling right now, having lost her mother in such a vile manner, it would be him. Maker… it would be him.

She wondered how he might offer her comfort. Would he stoop so low as to hold her? Or would he pat her arm in a friendly manner while assuring her that her mother's soul was with the Maker, with the rest of her family. Hawkes eyes filled with tears. She set the glass of wine on the nightstand and hid her face behind her hands, determined not to make any sound that might summon Bodahn or Oriana to check on her.

It seemed her efforts were in vain. She heard the click of the door as someone tentatively pushed it open.

"Leave me alone Boda…" She stopped mid-sentence as she saw who it was carefully slipping into her room. Sebastian's gleaming white armour flickered golden yellow in the firelight. He looked a strange mix of concerned and cautious, like she was some kind of wild mabari.

She stared at him, stunned for a moment before remembering the tears that still streaked her face. She gathered up the sleeve of the thin shirt she was wearing and wiped it roughly across her face. Then, she realised the shirt was all she was wearing aside from her underclothes. She'd never felt so naked in her life! Sebastian seemed unusually unfazed by this however as he closed and latched the door behind him.

"Sebastian! What are you doing here!" She pulled at the cover on her bed to throw over her bare legs.

He lingered a moment by the fireplace, staring at her with those ocean like blue eyes, so full of raging emotions. "I couldn't stop thinking about what you said as you left the chantry earlier." His voice was music to Hawke's tired ears. It always had been; his thick exotic accent like a healing spell that worked magic on her aching chest.

She frowned. "That was barely an hour ago…"

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot before you said it…" He admitted. "But what you said… it made me realise something."

"Really?" Hawke dared not hope… surely he was speaking of something chant related… some verse or prayer he could offer for her mother's soul. She'd given up hoping for him.

The whirlpool of wild emotions in his eyes stilled suddenly with a firm decisiveness Hawke had seen many times before when he'd made up his mind about something and was determined to be stubborn about whatever he'd decided. Sebastian was after all indecisive generally… yet stupidly stubborn. He drew close while she was busy admiring his eyes. She hardly noticed how close he'd come until he was kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his own. He met her gaze, firm and unrelenting, with the same righteousness he used when taking about his beloved Maker. "Chastity… isn't for Princes." He spoke in a low voice, his accent rolling thick off his tongue.

Hawke shook her head and snatched her hands away from him. "Don't you dare tease me!" She snapped wildly. She bought her legs up onto the bed and backed away from him across the sheets. "Don't you dare! Not now! Not after all this! You said you belonged in the chantry!"

He got to his feet again and shook his head. "No… I was wrong. I realise that now!" She was still trying to back away from him. Soon she would run out of bed and Sebastian wasn't sure she'd noticed in her blind panic. He lunged forwards and grabbed her retreating ankle, pulling her back towards him. She struggled to get away from him, so he scooped her up in his arms and pulled her against him as he sat heavily on the bed. She slammed her hands and fists against his chest plate so hard Sebastian was afraid she would bruise herself.

"Let me go!" She screamed out. "If you have any respect for me you'll let me go right now!"

He managed; somehow, to manoeuvre his hands enough to strip himself of his gauntlets so he could run his fingers gently through her hair to sooth her. She stilled a little, her tears flowing freely against his shoulder. "You said…" She gasped. "You said you belonged in the chantry!"

He shook his head and dared to press a kiss to her forehead. "No Lass… I belong right here… with you. I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to realise it." He kissed her forehead again. "Forgive me?"

"Maker Sebastian!" Hawke said into his shoulder guard. "Please… please promise me you won't go back to the chantry tomorrow in regret! Please…"

Sebastian pulled away from her slightly to stare into her golden eyes, red with tears and misery. It broke his heart to see her so unhappy. "I promise you Hawke. I'll stay as long as you want me." She didn't seem convinced, fear still clung to the edges of her expression and Sebastian couldn't stand it. It seemed so wrong for such a strong, beautiful woman to be so afraid… all because of him.

She felt him pull away and she let him go, almost sure he was going to mutter some apology and take his leave… but he didn't. Instead his freed hands went to the clasps and buckles of his armour and quickly, but carefully, he began to undo them.

Piece by piece Sebastian Vael removed his signature shining white and gold armour. He placed the pieces on the floor by the bed and stood to divest himself of his ornate belt, leg guards, boots and finally, the chainmail shirt beneath. He leaned down, propping himself up on his hands either side of Hawke's head, clad only in leather breeches and a thin white undershirt. He began to rain gentle kisses on her forehead and cheeks. "I won't regret this." He murmured to her. "I could never regret this."

"Sebastian…" Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper. His lips captured hers, soft and persistent. The last thread of control broke in her and she gave into him. She slipped her long hands under the fabric of his shirt to dance her fingertips along smooth, warm skin beneath. He began to plant his kisses along the sensitive crook of her neck and she gasped into his shoulder, his touch leaving flame on her skin that warmed the deepest depths of her. Maker… how long had she wanted this? How long had she begged his name to the darkness?

She ran her hands up, pulling the shirt with it and he broke his kiss long enough for her to pull it over his head, allowing her the view of his broad chest, the muscles well-toned from years of dedicated archery practice. There were one or two scars and Hawke immediately loved each one.

She traced her fingers along one that crossed over his collarbone and he smiled, taking her wondering hand and kissing the palm before leaning over her once more. This time he balanced himself on an elbow, leaving one hand free to wonder her body. Tentatively at first, then with growing boldness he brushed his hand over her hip, up her side to her breast. She leaned up to kiss his neck, then gasped as she felt his hand slip under her shirt to repeat its last move.

"Maker Hawke… you are a beauty." He murmured, sitting back only slightly to admire the way her dark hair spilled over the white bed sheets, the way her ample breasts heaved with every breath she took, the subtle writhing of her hips as liquid heat pooled at her core.

"Sebastian…" He cut off whatever she would have said with another long, sensual kiss as his wondering hand gripped at her breasts, slipping beneath her breast band to find and toy with her nipples, first one… and then the other. He leaned down, pulling aside the shirt to replace his hands with his lips, tongue and teeth. His need was mounting, his body responding to every movement she made… every gasp of breath that she took. He ground his hips against her as he played; his erection firm against Hawkes thigh. Her fingers buried in his dark hair as he nipped at her sensitive flesh, each little tug driving him that little bit wilder, his now free hand drifting lower and teasingly close to the band of her smalls.

She growled as he began to slip his fingers teasingly around the cloth that covered her hot centre. "Maker Sebastian! Please!" At the demanding request he pushed aside the fabric to find her wet and wanting beneath. He slowly massaged her pearl, taking his time, enjoying the way she moaned his name, the way her back arched into his every little touch. He moved his mouth from her chest, giving her nipples a final lick before kissing a trail over her stomach. He glanced up at her and found her gazing at him through half lidded eyes filled with unbridled lust. Carefully, he pulled her smalls from her long legs and abandoned them over the side of the bed. He gave her a wicked smile… one he'd not used in years and now would never use for anyone else, before dipping his head and running his tongue along her hot centre.

She let out a wild moan and arched into him, her hands once again pulling at his hair. He grabbed her hips firmly and pinned her to the bed as he worked on her, thrusting his tongue over her centre and dipping it into her opening. Her legs threatened to tighten around his neck, so he moved his hands to push them apart, pinning her by the inner thigh instead and leaving her spread open for him. He glanced up at her again as he licked and nipped at her, watching in fascination the pleasure as it danced over her face and sang through her moans. He risked freeing one of her legs to thrust his fingers into her opening, first, one, then two… then three. He felt her shake and shudder in his hands as he pushed her the last inch, then caught her as she fell over the edge, her back arching elegantly, her voice singing his name.

He smiled to himself, giving her a moment to catch her breath and admiring his work as she lay a panting on the bed, her shirt sticking to her skin a little, her eyes closed in bliss. He kneeled up to undo the laces on his breeches and removed them before leaning forwards again and grabbing the neck of her red shirt in both hands, ripping it down the middle. He pulled it away from her body, tossing it over the side of the bed, then gathered her into his arms and lay back with her, stroking her ebony hair.

"Not done already are you?" She teased, one of her long legs gently rubbing at his still hard erection.

"Not by a long shot Lass." He laughed, kissing her head again. "Just letting you catch your breath."

She scoffed, rising up on her own knees above him. "Oh please Sebastian… I am a warrior." She crawled down his body, tossing the black hair out of her face and eyes and admiring the long length of him for a moment before gently running her tongue from base to tip. Sebastian moaned and leaned back against the headboard to watch her as she kissed his tip before taking it into her mouth, her full red lips surrounding him as she engulfed him in the moist heat of her mouth. Her hand trailed up his inner thigh and stroked his sack as she began to suck eagerly on his shaft, her arse raised in the air behind her, her golden eyes fixed on his and filled with mischief. She began to take more of him into her mouth, running her tongue over his sensitive flesh and revelling in his salty taste. Her free hand grasped his base and stroked roughly.

Sebastian tangled her hair in his hand and pushed on the back of her head, forcing her down onto him. She moaned in delight and he began to thrust into her, forcing his entire shaft into her wanting mouth. Her free hand slipped down and he watched with fascination as she began to pleasure herself, getting off on the rough way he was pulling at her hair.

It was too much… the sight of her touching herself, the feeling of her warm lips and moaning gasps on his erection. He pulled on her hair, pulling her away from him before she made him spill. She whined in protest and tried to pull away to continue her lusty work, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hand away from her own centre. He held up her fingers, wet and glistening with her own juices. He leaned forwards and sucked them clean.

He jerked his head towards the bed. "On your knees Hawke." A thrill went through him at commanding such a woman such a thing, yet she moved quickly and desperately to obey him, going down on all fours in front of him and presenting her beautiful round hips and soaked centre.

"Please Sebastian!" She begged. She felt him kneel up behind her, felt his tip as he lined himself up… then… he slammed into her in one powerful thrust making her scream with the burning mix of pleasure and pain. He was big, stretching her walls and hitting deep inside her. She tried to lower her head to the pillows but he took a handful of her hair, keeping her up, his other hand grasping her hip tight enough to bruise.

"Maker Hawke!" He gasped behind her.

She tried to move her hips, wanting… needing him to pound her. "Sebastian!" She moaned. "Fuck me! Please!"

He granted her wish and began a slow pace at first. It didn't last long, his own desire to hot a wild to contain. He began to fuck her in earnest. The room was filled with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of needy gasping and moaning. Sebastian pulled Hawke by her hair until her back was flush with his chest, then moved his hands to grab at her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples while his mouth and teeth closed on her neck. She moaned and his hand dipped again to flick at her centre, rubbing her in time to his deep thrusts. Hawke gave one last cry of pleasure, her walls clamping down on him as she rode out the most intense orgasm of her life. Sebastian let her fall forwards and pounded into her a few more times before finally finding his own rushing release.

He pulled out of her, their joint fluids running along her inner thigh, and fell onto his back beside her. She leaned over the bed to grab her ruined shirt and used it to clean up before curling up next to him, his arms wrapping around her. He kissed her forehead.

"I'm not going back to the chantry Hawke…" He told her. "I promise you."

She smiled into his chest. "I know." She snuggled against him. "I love you." Her voice came out as little more than a whisper. Still too proud to openly voice what was in her heart.

Sebastian smiled, running his hand through her dark hair. "I love you too."

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***Sigh* I'm going to hell aren't I… oh well; I hear that's where all the best parties are anyways. XD **

**And to any of my Mass Effect fiction readers… I haven't forgotten Remember Me… it's just being an arse of a story to write! **


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